Don't ask me why, but I thought of this today. The baby sitters we had as we grew up. I'm going to need some help with this, so when you get this and it triggers your queevates, click the comment button and join in.
Joan Drew
Shirley Dame
Joan Sharon
Joan's brother [help me on this one, I forget his name]
Jackie McLaughlin
Dorothy Czech, Jackie's friend
Uncle Donald Dion
Uncle Normand Dion
These are the ones that I remembered today. I also had some quick, few words/characterizations/descriptions of each of them run through my mind. For those of you who are not personally familiar with my childhood, this part of the story really doesn't mean much to you...
Most caring/best teacher
Most loyal
She's OK
Prize-winning beautiful
Most fun
Strictest/best cook
Best singer
Or does it? How could a young child come up with these categories of people and remember them 60+ years later? Isn't that what you're wondering? You must be reading this shaking your head and wondering what kind of childhood we had if we went around putting people into categories. Of course we did. That's what growing children do. Especially when it comes to baby sitters. They are important people. Children spend a lot of time with them. Baby sitters are the ones who teach children the art of negotiation. Baby sitters know that the children know what instructions the parents gave the sitter. They also know that the children are going to try to get the sitter to bend the rules. Some sitters know that this is the time when life lessons enter the room. This is the time for politics 101. This is the time for the art of compromise and barter. This is the time for honesty, truth and mutual respect for a "deal." All I know about baby sitters is what I lived with the ones whom my parents trusted with us. They were all very honest and caring people. The one who got an OK from me was not around for a very long time. I, of course, do not know why, but the fact is that she did not have a long run. Maybe EFR and MJT Dion knew something that I didn't and still don't. But for the time she was with us, she was fine. Not Mary Poppins, but fine. That makes me think...No, we never did have a "Mary Poppins."
My favorite was the one who had the patience to teach me to write my name, to read English better and to do simple arithmetic. She never sent me to bed. She would say something like, "You've done better tonight than the last time. When you think about things before you go to sleep, you'll be able to do them better next week." I loved her so much and trusted her so deeply that I would go to bed right away to test her theory. I would do it all week. It worked. I loved it. And ya wanna know what? I did that all my life and still do that same thing to this day. I had to struggle with many new languages in my life. I can't begin to count the sleepless hours I have logged forcing myself to get better at the language that was challenging me at the time. When people tell me that I have a "facility" for languages, it really pulls my chain. What I have is a facility to drive myself insane while looking at the ceiling and forcing my brain to think of something in a language that it doesn't even know yet. That's a "facility?" It's all that sweet, beautiful, loving, baby sitter's fault. If she's still alive, she deserves it because the world needs her. I hope she reads this because she is one of the key people in my life. I kid you not.
I don't want to prolong this, but I will just say one last thing. This all took place in the day and age before Baby Sitting training had been invented. Maybe I should have placed this thought first, not last.
No comments:
Post a Comment